Angel's Vengeance
by Izulza
Summary: What if all of Christine's fears came true when Erik took her down once more. Warning rated M for Evil Erik and not a Christine lover.
1. New Found Pain

Author's Note:

Hi everyone & thank you for choosing my story. Please bear in mind this is my first fic ever, so be merciful. And please know **_I LOVE ERIK_** I just think that his evil persona is either not shown enough or too tame. This fic has no fluffy Erik what so ever, only evil Erik - to the max.

Angel's Vengeance

Christine was frightened out of her mind as the Phantom draged her to his home - and her prison. Roughly he forced her into the boat and Christine started sobbing as the deformed man began polling the boat.

Erik's eyes never left the form of the shaking girl as lust, anger, and madness grew dangerously within him. No one would be able to find her, he had planned it so: the exit they took should've suffiently crumbled by now, Madame Giry would definately lead the pathetic Vicomte, but not far, every tunnel was infested with traps and even if De Changy miraculously found Christine it would not be for days and would not stand a chance against the Opera Ghost by then.

He was stearing the boat so fast that when they hit the shore, Christine jerked forward and was brought out of her crying stupor. Before she had the chance to do anything, two large hands latched themselves onto her forearms and hoisted her out of the boat. Erik never let her touch the ground, he just carried her to his room with as much protest as she dare display, which only made his hatred boil.

"Angel, please stop! Your'e hurting me!" the girl cried pitifully.

"Hurting you!" he roared throwing her to the floor, landing with her back against the wing of the bird bed. "For years I have done nothing, but love and devote myself to you! And how do you repay me?! By taking a knife and stabbing me in the heart every chance you got!" his fists clenched and raised above his head while he roared. "Exposing me like that to the public was cruelest thing ever done to me and the final straw! I hate you Christine Daae! But I am still going to take everything I want from you!"

The damsel in distress paled and went rigid, upon realizing what was about to happen to her. The enraged phantom pinned his knees on either side of her, leaving no hope of escape, and began tearing the costume right off her body. Most of the fabric came off easily, only when he came to the black corset did he have to tug harder and this caused Christine to bang her head against the bed thus silencing her from prior screaming.

Once he was finished, Erik then threw Christine onto the bed, kicked off his boots and pounced upon his prey. Christine screamed and tried to look away by sqeezing her eyes shut and burying her face into the pillow. Her angel would not have it.

"Look at me!" he yelled cupping face and bringing it towards him roughly.

"No!" she sobbed miserably closing her eyes tighter.

"No! he repeated, "You removed my mask twice so that you and all of Paris could see the monster! **NOW LOOK AT ME DAMN YOU!"**

Slowly she pried open her eyes only to be met with a ravaged face and worst of all eyes burning with anger, insanity, hatred, and lust. Tears began to glaze her doe eyes as she shook and whimpered in fear

"Why do you curse mercy?" she whispered.

"You will learn," he said as he kneed to undress himself, "that there is no mercy in this cruel cruel world."

Instinctively she covered her breast as she began to feel dizzy and faint. Her captor had rid himself of all clothing and pinned her arms above her head, allowing the Phantom to view her vunerable body. Christine bit back a sob when she felt his erection rub against her. He could no longer hold back as lust -pure and simple - dominated his every emotion.

The last thing Christine Daae could remember was an agonizing pain that felt as if her body split in two and her scream that echoed as she fainted.

...

Yeah, not a Christine lover. Sorry if it was too dark. Please give me feedback & ideas to punish Christi- I mean end the story( evil look on face & taps finger tips together).


	2. What Horrors Await For You'

**Author's Note**:

Hello again glad to see I didn't scare you off *cough* yet *cough*. Sorry for the spelling and/or grammer mistakes, I've yet to find a beta. I also didn't realize how short that last chapter was, I'll try and make this one longer. Please PM me with Beta offers.

And thank you PhantomFan01 my first ever reviewer.

So without further delay, on with torturing Chris- I mean on the story!

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When Christine opened her eyes, her surroundings were dark and hazy. Her body was sore and her the back of her head was throbbing. When she tried to move, it was discovered that the trunk of her body was pressed down. Her arms were free as was her legs, although something rested between them.

And then she felt a hot breath caressing down the back of her neck. She had to crane her neck only to be able to see out of the corner of her eye. In the very dim light Chistine saw a distroyed face buried in a mass of her curls and asleep.

The young woman had to fight herself from shaking, so to not wake him. With small hope, she tried to shift herself out from underneath the Phantom. Christine barely moved an inch, before he drew in a sharp breath and grunted. She became dead still, hoping he would go back to sleep, but to no avail.

"Please think I'm still sleeping," she whimpered in her mind, trying to relax her body.

"You are not going anywhere,_ dear,_" he whispered lazily while kissing her neck. Tears began prickling her eyes when he began shifting. "But seeing as you're up," Erik never continued, just postioned himself before his prisoner's breasts and began lapping at them. What started off as light licking lead to him taking as much of her mounds into his mouth and sucking hard.

Christine couldn't help but squirm at her discomfort. To put a stop to her movement, Erik slid his hand under her back and arched it towards his eagar tongue. Her heavy breathing aroused him.

Before long he released her swollen nipple with a pop that made Miss Daae shudder in revulsion. As he started on the other, the first breast was kneaded by his free hand. After what seemed liked hours, Erik finally creased and nodded off in between her moist breasts.

Christine, once certain the Opera Ghost was sleeping, cried herself to sleep - silently as possible.

The next morning, Christine awoke feeling like a weight had been lifted - literally. Feeling a bit cold, the prisioner tried to reach for the blankets resting at her hips, but found the simple task impossible. She opened her eyes in panic when she realized her hands were bound. The first thing she noticed was that she was on the opposite end of the bed, her hands chained above her, to the peacock's head.

Next, she saw the Phantom of the Opera wearing nothing, but a pair of black trouses and in the process of putting on a shirt. Immediately she gasped and turned away, not ready to see him in such fashion.

"Ah finally, you are wake," he began to approach her, his eyes raking over her, hungerly. "Honestly, Christine, I never thought of you as such a heavy sleeper. Not that I'm complaining," there was nothing, but amusement in his tone. She made no move, the only thing he could see was the small of her back and her cascading curls. "Christine, look at me." Nothing. Erik sighed in annoyance,"Christine don't you think, at this point, that it is useless to disobey me - or dpo you think it _benefitcial_?" there was only threat on that last word.

Mlle. Daae drew in a deep breath, before revealing her desperate and pleading eyes, but he ignored that. In those few moments of silence Christine noticed he had made no effort concerning his wig and mask, probably to spite her.

"I think its time I tell you what will happen from now on." The Phantom's face twisted into a evil and menacing look...

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Wow. I promised myself I'd post this chapter as soon as I got any reviews. More horrors next time on...

_**Angel's Vengeance**_!


	3. Stockholm Syndrome

Erik'sTrueAngel - No we all just want a bad boy (well older & demented man).

PhantomFan01 - Yes. Yes they are(**MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!).**

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Chapter III

Stockholm Syndrome

"I think its time I tell you what will happen from now on." The Phantom's face twisted into a evil and menacing look. Christine's blood began to freeze at his tone and look he was giving her. " from here on out," he continued, "you will be completely dependant on me. The chains will assist with that," he gestured toward the bonds as if they were mundane items, yet she never looked away from him, too afraid that any movemant would expose her more to her captor. "Anything you need, require, or must do, you will call me and ask for my help. Now, is there anything you require at this very moment?"

All she currently wanted was to be unbound and that was not going happen. "No."

"You do not want breakfast? I do have women's clothing that I can dress you with," suddenly becoming desperate to be of use to his protégé. Mlle. Daaé shook her head. The rejection hurt Erik, but he refused to show it. "When you need me, call me 'Angel'. he spat bitterly.

He left Christine to be with her own thoughts, which were begining to drive her mad. Since the mention of breakfast her stomache started making abusive sounds and from where she lay she could see long sleeve dresses hanging up neatly. Goosebumps crawled all over her arms as she realized just how cold she was.

Once he took his leave, the former Angel of Music headed straight for the altar-like organ and had begun work on one of his own melodies. Erik had not been working five minutes before Christine called to him.

"Angel."

"She broke quite easily," he thought arrogantly. This was going alot smoother than he antcipated. Then the Opera Ghost answered in a cocky tone, "Yes, Christine?"

Finally, after a few mommnents of reluctancy," I... I need you."

Purposely, he took his time getting to the woman waiting for him in his bed. The very thought caused him to grow hard. "_Oui, mon ange."_ His entire stance full of triumph. Christine's back was leaning against the neck of the bird, leaving her, from the hips up, fully exposed. This did not escape the older man's notice. "What is it you require of your dear master?"

She swallowed hard,"I'm cold and hungery."

"So?" he asked wanting to make her beg.

Taking a deep breath she tried again, "Please will you make me something eat, but will you dress me first, please?" You could hear it in her voice how broken she was becoming.

Erik stalked over to the the open wardrobe and pulled out two simple, but beautiful dresses. One was a faded green with short sleeves, the other was a dusty purple having long sleeves and a low neckline, "Which one would you like me to dress you into?"

"The one with the long sleeves," he raised his only eyebrow with expectation, "please," she finally added. The smug man put the other dress away and began unbuttoning the first. He then pulled the covering off her, took a quick scan of her body, and slipped the dress on her, with relative ease. Because of how she was bound, Erik had to slide her feet in first and work his way up. When it came to the sleeves, he undid the one shackle, slid her arm through the sleeve and shackled it up again. He repeated this movement with the other hand.

The warden then made way to the kitchen to prepare his prisoner some breakfast. Christine counted seven minutes he was gone, before the smell of warm pasteries filled the room. Erik chuckled when she released a long and hungery moan. The phantom had come holding the plate of food and a serviette in one hand and a chair in the other.

He set everything down and pulled a thin blanket over Christine, "We don't want you messing on your pretty dress now, do we?" he spoke to her as if she were a mere child and she nodded as if one. For a minute the girl honestly thought she would be unbound so she could eat, but then she was reminded '_completely dependant' _when her angel sat on the stool and started feeding her.

Erik had prepared his former student a croissant and a warm English muffin cut in half and smeared with butter. He started with the croissant so that the muffin could cool. He tore a piece off and leaned in to feed the girl with a look of disbelief on her face.

Truly, Christine had to become '_completely dependent on him'_ and it would happen with no dignity on her part. Leaning forward and being careful not to bite his fingers ( from a fear of being punished), with her teeth she removed the over sized crumb and swollowed it whole. That turn out to be a mistake as she began to choke on it. Almost immediately Erik's magnificent hands were on her back, quickly easing the pain and tension from her fit.

Once Christine had calmed, a small goblet was held beneath her lips and a hand under her chin. Tears of humiliation made way down the young saprono's cheeks as she drank, she hoped that her enforcer would tribute the tears to her shock of chocking, but Erik knew better. Gently her maestroe wiped away her tears, on one side with his thumb and the other with his middle finger, "Hush don't cry, my little nightingale. It is alright. Let us try again shall we?" She could only muster a nod.

After a while, his torture was not so unbearable and was slowly becoming tolerable. Up until the part where Erik '_accidently'_ dropped a piece of buttery muffin on her chest. The Phantom of the Opera was more than smug to be unnecessarily thorough with wiping her breast clean assisted by the serviette. The poor young girl had no choice, but allow him to practically molest her. Finally they were done without anymore incidents. Erik stood and wiped his hands clean, "Perhaps next time you and I might perfect eating a simple meal before we try something harder, let us say soup for expamle?"

"Must you be so cruel?" She whimpered.

"CRUEL!"

he roared. The plate was smashed onto the ground as Erik threw himself on Christine again, "Silence!" he order when she started screaming. You think _this_ is cruel," the Opera Ghost had to fight to keep his hands from striking her hard across the face, so instead they took hold of her collar to pacify themselves. "You think this is the pinnacle of my cruelty or have you completely forgotten the events of last night?" The memories of last night shook her so much, one would think she was verging a panic attack, "Perhaps you want me to force myself upon your precious body once again?" he sneered.

"No!" Christine screamed as loud as her voice would go.

"SILENCE!"

Instantly she went silent, but now she was shaking uncontrollably and she was seeing spots in front of her eyes. "_This,_" Erik hissed, "will not happen again. Am I understood?"

"Yes angel," the shaking prisoner croaked. He was off her so suddenly it was as if he was never there in the first place.

The man who looked akin to a wild animal, ready to kill, never broke eye contact as he stood there panting heavily, "Just call me when you need me," with that, he spun round on his heel and stalked out of the room. Moments later, Christine allowed herself to, once again, slip into _blackness..._

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O_O! I am evil. Please report any grammer mistakes and/or flaws to this chapter.

Let this serve as a reminder of the fact that our dear Phantom is bipolar.

On a final note, the more reviews I get the quicker I will post.

- _Izulza_


	4. Bathroom Break

**Author's Note:**

I have been watching my favourite Phantom of the Opera scenes in slow motion and I have to say '**IT'S FREAKIN' AWESOME!** I can see so much detail, Erik's scenes last longer and its hilarious watching _Il Muto_ and everybody's reaction to Carlotta croaking, but wacthing Erik kill Buquet slowly made my somache churn, its actually creepy to watch. I recommend turning the sound off, because with sound everybody sounds drunk; though its really funny.

Nibblesfan:

A thanks to my patient Beta.

SaVrAiNoiR:

Thanks for the great chat over the weekend. Much appreciated.

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Chapter IV

Bathroom Break

What must have been hours later, Christine woke up with a slight pressure in her lower abdomen. With horror she realized what it was and she, along with Erik, was about to hit a new low. "Angel," she called.

"Yes, Christine," he answered back sweetly. At least he seemed to be in a better mood, though whether that was a good thingor a bad thing the frightened girl did not know.

" Cou- would you please come here," she stuttered timidly.

"I will be right there," taking longer than the first time, the Phantom thought to himself, "I wonder if she is calling to apologize. Well, if my little nightingale does not now, I will make sure she does later." Upon entering his own room, Erik could not it when help his heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing his beloved, "What is it you require of your dear master?"

Christine turned her face away, too ashamed to look him in the eye at her request, "I need to use the lavatory." The prisoner was ashamed for having asked such a thing, her face turned a bright red.

A sly look never left the Opera Ghost's face as she was unbound and led to the bathroom. The wash room clearly belonged to and was solely used by a bachelor, it possessed that masculine scent yet it had the same type of atmosphere as did the rest of the lair. There was a sink built into the wall of the cave and what the young girl assumed was a bath, was set in the floor quite elegantly. Shelves lined one side of the small room and they were filled with expensive soaps, bathing oils, shampoos and black towels with gold lining of various sizes.

"Don't be too long," Erik breathed into her ear from behind, causing her to jump in fright. Taking a step back, Christine entered the lavish bathroom and watched the man in charge close the door. For a few moments she contemplated on whetheror not she should lock the door and stay inside here, exchange one prison for another. The problem was that the Phantom of the Opera had already proven far too superior in every field possible and the fact that she would soon die of starvation in here. Better judgment decided against it, in order to prevent more punishment.

Once the prisoner was finished with her business, she took a moment to enjoy this awkward sense of freedom. No chains and shackles, no one lecherously watching her and her every movement. The young girl's thoughts were interrupted by a banging on the door, "Christine I know you are taking your time in there, which I suggest you stop. Come out _now_ and I will run you a much needed a bath."

A million thoughts ran through her head, "Could he, somehow, see me? What did he mean '_a much needed a bath_'? Was that an insult? Do I smell? Or does he think I deserve a break?" The very idea of being watched while relieving herself made her feel violated on a new level, but the idea of a long, hot, relaxing bath made her forget such thoughts. After acknowledging and mentally preparing for the possibility of her fallen angel watching her while she bathed, Christine grabbed a medium sized towel, fit for body, and finally replied, "I am finished."

The captive girl felt so small, when her captor opened the door revealing how much his large build filled the door's frame, unlike her. Erik side-stepped, allowing her to undress in their now shared bedroom, while he prepared the bath.

It was quick and easy to undress since her _care-taker_ could not reach the buttons at the back, as they were being blocked by the bird's neck, so all she had to do was slip off the dress and wrap herself up in the black cotton towel. The girl had to sit for a bit, while awaited for her much desired bath. Already she could pick up the smell of scented candles and aromatic bathing oils mingling with now steaming hot water. This reminded Christine that she was only clothed in a towel, causing her to shiver as goose bumps made way on her skin.

Finally, the sound of running water from the taps ceased, indicating that the young lady's bath was ready, much to her delight. Despite his eyes never leaving the frail girl's form, not a sound was uttered, from either of them as he made his exit and she entered the adjoining bathroom, discarded her only covering and sank into the welcoming waters. When she sat down, the water level was just enough to cover her breasts and the magnificent hole in the ground was large enough for her to properly lie down in. All her troubles seemed to melt right off her body and soon she forgot about her current situation. There Christine just sat, allowing the heat to seep into her bones and chase away the unwanted cold of the past 24 hours. Within pure bliss the young soprano made no attempt to think on anything, completely oblivious to the danger locking himself in with her.

Sensing the disruption of the calm waters, Christine turned round in time to see Erik drop his towel exposing himself completely to her horror stricken eyes. The startled girl gasped in fright, spun the other way and brought her hand to her mouth to prevent any scream from erupting. Her tormentor chuckled cruelly at her surprise as he sat down behind her and began stroking her back slightly. Taking her hand away from her mouth, she managed to calm herself through a breathing exercise Erik had taught her for singing.

Once certain there would be no hysterical fits on her part, Erik took hold of the brush he had left earlier by the side of the bath and started brushing her delicious chocolate brown curls. Try as he might to be gentle, her hair was so full of knots, he could not help it when the brush would accidently tug on her hair. Despite her will to be strong, the stinging of her hair being pulled brought painful and unwanted tears to eyes. When they fell free of her face, all they could do was join the warm waters. When her cascading locks were as they should, he made no attempt to resist running his hand through Christine's hair.

Between the soothing hot waters and his strong hand massaging her scalp, her body began to relax against her will. Curiosity begged her to look over her shoulder in order to see what he was doing, when his strong caresses had stopped. Erik was pouring some exotic looking soap onto his hands, she immediately looked away the moment the two of them made eye contact. "I have to say," as his hands were being lathered up in soap, "I did not anticipate smoothing out your hair to be such a project," he began rubbing his soapy hands over her moist body.

"I'm sorry," Christine tried to reply calmly, while desperately trying to ignore her master's hands all over her, " the last time I brushed my hair was when I was getting ready for..." The moment the words slipped past her, she regretted them. She expected anger from him at the mention of _that _night, but as usual, he gave her the unexpected.

"Hush," Erik whispered seductively against the crook of her neck, causing her to shudder. Christine refused to discern if it was out of fear or even desire, but naturally the Angel knew better, "It's alright. I am in constant thought of how our voices were perfectly joined within the melodies of my very own music." His hands started moving down towards her hips, the poor girl had a hard time ignoring both that and his sudden growing hardness.

"Oh Christine," the Phantom said breathily into her ear, his voice was full of longing and desire with a thin layer of sorrow and loss that Christine did not notice, "I would do so much for you to let me hold you like that again." Now his hands were where her leg met her hips, "I have always done so much for you." Erik's words came out in husky whispers as his naughty hand were on the move again: his right hand slipped in between her legs, while the other moved to circled her neck as the Opera Ghost had done during _Don Juan ._

Christine's breath hitched in her throat as an unfamiliar sensation washed over her trembling body. Erik's right hand began to fondle her most sensitive area as his left squeezed her throat ever so slightly so that she would have to pant in order to breath. His arousal grew harder as he pulled the girl, who had fallen under his spell, to his bare, hard chest. began throb as her Angel's fingers went deeper in to her and soon Erik's breathing matched her own.

Christine began pulling her own hair to bite down on the growing sensation, she now realized its name was _pleasure._ Taking this exquisite torture further, he started descending bringing her down with him, until they both were on their backs. Erik's head rested on the brim of the bath, the towel he had dropped earlier acted as a pillow, while his lady's body was almost completely submerged. Only her face was not covered by the soothing waters.

Erik could feel her release coming and with horror so could she. Fearing her own orgasmic eruption, Christine threw her master's hands off of her, leapt out of the tub, grabbed her towel and ran towards the locked door. Her incisive banging of trying to get the door open prevented her from hearing the Phantom come right up behind her. "Allow me," he said. Her shoulders tensed as he reached in front of her and undid the latch, that she had failed to notice in her panic.

Using her hand as the only thing holding up the soft towel, she ran into the adjacent bedroom, where she had left her new dress as soon as the door was opened for her. The whole time Erik acted nonchalantly, despite the fact that Christine's latest rejection was a new stab to his heart. The mighty Opera Ghost remained aloof as he pulled the plug to drain the waters and started drying himself off.

If you have ever dressed yourself while your skin is damp, you must know it is done with great difficulty and not quickly. So when Erik walked into the bedroom, Christine had only just put her gown on and had done up a few buttons. Throwing his towel away to join hers he came up behind her, "My dear, there is no need for that."

"Wha-what d-do you m-mean?" fearing that she already the answer. He was so close to her that Christine had to balance herself against the Phoenix bed.

"You will see," the Phantom smirked evilly and raised his only eyebrow as his long, strong arms went to her sides.

Flying into a fit of panic Christine tried to push herself away from him, only to be pulled to his hard chest as he undid the maroon buttons. Falling into hysteria, the young woman started banging on his chest, "No! Please, I beg of you! Please do not do this!" The girl's mind search frantically for a way out as her master's hands gradually pushed the clothing off of her shoulders, "I am sorry! Please believe me!"

"I cannot do that, Christine," dragging the dress down her forearms, "I do not trust you anymore."

"B-bu-but I-I-I am!" now she was crying, "I am sorry for removing your mask! **Twice!**" she spat quickly when Erik knelt down to withdraw the material from her hips. Christine began screaming faster," I am sorry for going behind your back! I am sorry for courting Raoul, when I should have- _did know_ that you loved me!" Upon hearing his rival's name, he jerked the dress from beneath her feet. This caused the prisoner to fall backwards into the bed as she cried out in shock. "I am sorry f-f-fo-for agreeing to help capture you! They would not take no for an answer! I am sorry for claiming you to be cruel and rejecting your touch in the ba-!"

"Enough!" Erik had gotten her to apologize, but enough was enough and he wanted her body right now.

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Hi everybody sorry for the late update, but I write as insperation comes, but admit it you are picturing yourself in Christines place, aren't you?

I know I referred the bed to being peacock-shaped, but I read in The Quest (which I recommend you read) that it was a Pheonix and it sounded right.

And a small announcement: I have been collecting Phantom of the Opera pictures of every medium for 3 years. And the tally is

1,075 Images of The Phantom Of The Opera

-**_Izulza_**


	5. Routine

**Author's Note: **I think from here on out I can't promise regular updates.

**Phantonfan01: **Sorry this is movie based, so no Mr. Khan. Maybe in another fic.

**Erik'sTrueAngel: **I hope you are enjoying Phantom Reviewer.

**Nibblefan: **Thanks for everything Its nice having a friend to talk to. 8D (I'm still LMAO)

**SaVrAiNoiR: **I'm not sure I understood your review.

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**Chapter V**

**Routine**

He pushed himself deep inside her, she cringed with pain. Erik pushed further still as tears seeped through Christine's eyes. This had been going on for fifteen minutes, but for the young soprano it felt like hours. This time was definitely worse than the first time he had taken her. For one thing she was awake and had to endure the pain. At first she clutched the blankets as her body's natural instinct to pain, but her master had commanded that she put her arms around him. The poor girl dug her nails into her own palms to prevent them from digging into his skin and receiving more punishment

Little Lotte's fallen angel had taken to burying himself in the crook of her neck, grunting, slobbering and taking a heaving breath from time to time. It disgusted her. Christine tried her best to be silent, but a few agonizing whimpers escaped her.

To Christine the most horrifying part came when Erik exploded inside of her. The Phantom gave an orgasmic cry, while she cried out in revulsion, though he was convinced it was purely out of pleasure.

Erik kissed her neck as he did the first time, but he began working his way up to her lips. He kissed her hard and possessively enjoying her panting in between. Before he could completely exhaust himself, he gently bit her bottom lip and pulled on it slightly.

Christine thought they would return to the same position as last time with him on top, pressing her into the mattress, yet again her thoughts were proven wrong. He instead moved to her side and adjusted her so that both of them so they were spooning with his muscular arms wrapped around her waist to prevent any escape.

Christine did not sleep for a long time, until she had no more strength to resist.

_3 Days Later..._

"It has been a fortnight since I arrived here - no since I was condemned to this prison and with the exception of the first day everything has happen by clockwork.

Every morning I wake up to him getting dressed, I only allow myself a glance, He will ask me what I desire from my dear master and it's always the same: to bedressed first then to be fed. He does just so, he feeds me three times a day. I have not seen him wear a mask nor wig since the last time I had removed them. He no longer dresses himself in fine evening wear as he did as the Opera Ghost, only a clean white shirt, a pair of trousers, and an open robe as I first saw him in the morning I saw beneath the mask. My master always clothes me in simple dresses I find too revealing, but of course my opinion does not matter anymore.

My lost Angel's methods of _taking care_ of me are becoming more bearable by the day. I have more or less perfected eating while in a chained up position, yet I am unable to prevent him from "accidentally" messing on me so he may clean it up _thoroughly_.

The only time I leave the bed and chains is when I go to the washroom. Going to the lavatory is the one thing I am permitted to do alone. He still bathes me and washes and brushes my hair, but thankfully he does nothing else, so we did not have a repeat of the incident from the first time.

In between when I need him, he is still quite intolerable. I ameither plagued by my own maddening thoughts or the blaring of his melodies from the deafening organ. If the entire opera company thought _Don Juan Triumphant _was horrible, they knew nothing compared to what he plays down here. In a word: it _burns_. I cannot think of a better way to describe what it does to me. This burning is somewhere between intense pain and agonizing pleasure.

Only when he joins me in bed is it different. He is either trying to be more gentle or the pain itself is becoming numb. Every night thus far he has taken me, be it a form of punishing me or his own perverted pleasure I do not know. My master always falls asleep before me due to the fact he must take care of the both of us and the amount of energy he puts into playing his music. Having energy to spare I can never drift off easily into blissful oblivion and again I am left with only my mind for conversation. Surely I am going mad, but how is that bad thing. Maybe then all this will be welcomed. I am losing my mind! This must be his doing!"

"Perhaps that is so."

Gasping, Christine spun round to face him. Erik had left a few minutes ago to relieve himself after undressing her and leaving her in his bed. The Phantom had caught his soprano talking to herself, something she was starting to do frequently. "I- ah."

"It is alright, my darling." Why would he be upset when everything was going as planned? Erik undressed himself and was about to join his prisoner, but he stopped when he noticed she looked upset. It was not the same sadness she had shown for the past days, Christine appeared heart broken.

"My dear, what troubles you?"

"Nothing," she claimed not even making eye contact

"Christine," Erik sighed, "You are a terrible liar. Now please tell me what is wrong." His voice was soft there was no trace of resent or command. She looked at her Angel and only saw genuine concern in his eyes. There was a long pause. The Opera Ghost decided to remain patient because he could see that his Christine was trying to find the right words.

"Raoul," the girl finally said. His name felt bitter and unfamiliar on her tongue, "He- he has not come, has he?"

Erik truly did not want to answer, he had thought that the boy would come for his fiancée. Yes he knew the Vicomte would not arrive immediately, but he should have made some sort of appearance by now. The Phantom may have wanted De Chagny out of his way, yet he did not want his beloved thinking that the milksop did not love her as much as he claimed to. The fact he valued his life over Christine's made his blood boil.

"No," he finally replied. That seemed to break something in her as started crying, something she had stopped doing two days ago. He sat himself next to the sobbing woman and gently pulled her into a comforting embrace, running his knuckles softly down the length of her spine. The Angel of Music began rocking back and forth, while humming a Swedish lullaby into her ear.

Erik allowed her to cry over the boy. This would be the only time she would mourn for the world she once knew. Mlle. Daae must say goodbye to the cruel light of day, the world where he only knew pain. Then she would accept his realm of gentle night, the only place Erik knew mercy.

An hour passed and it was time for Christine to rest. So as gently as he could manage, Erik positioned her so that she was on her belly as he put his legs on either side of her. With his strong hands he rubbed firmly her muscle tissue and his Angel began to calm. "Breath in, hold it, now breath out," the Phantom repeated these words and his protégé soon quieted down as her sobbing receded into silent weeping until she slipped into a dreamless sleep.

"My love, soon your suffering will end," Erik promised, "And we will be happy together - forever."

* * *

Now Christine is crazy, but then again she must have been already if she can dump a hot piece of body like Erik for the fop. Please more reviews. I am like Tinkerbelle, I die without clapping, but I can't hear you clap. So REVIEW. Pwease.


	6. A New Way of Life

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the long wait, but I have recently been approved for a creative writing course and I had to start ASAP.  
**La Vampire Susan**: Welcome & I agree.  
**Erik'sTrueAngel:** Glad you are & you are right, they should have.  
**Phantomfan01:** He will... eventually

**Chapter VI**  
**A New Way of Life**

"Christine, Christine," Erik pushed the cascading locks out of his precious Angel's face. By now she was usually awake, he had been dressed and had prepared breakfast for her a while ago. Stroking her porcelain like face, he bent down to whisper in her ear, "Christine, Christine," he bid again, "My darling, it is time to rise."

Moving lower down her face, Erik gently pressed a kiss to her cheek. Christine drew in a deep breath and her thick lashes began to flutter. The Phantom chuckled to himself at knowledge of waking his Sleeping Beauty with a kiss. The young girl sat up, stretched, and finally rubbed the sleep out of her eyes so that she could open them. At last she noticed Erik by the bed and greeted him: "Good morning angel."

"Good morning, my sweet dear," the Opera Ghost ran his knuckles down her cheek and under her chin. Christine, without thinking enjoyed it and savoured the feel of his hands.

"How are you feeling this morning, Christine?" a part of him was worried that she had managed to make herself unwell, but instead she looked confused or as if she was trying to remember something.

"I... I was sad last night, was I not?" Erik nodded. "But now I feel ... lighter. I feel as if I should miss something or be upset, but 'why' I don't know."

Erik had to force himself to hide a cruel smile, "Christine," she glanced towards him, "Do not over work you pretty little head, my dear." He stroked her chin again, enjoying himself more than he should have, "Eat and worry another day."

Christine's lips turned up slightly and she bobbed her head up and down before yawning. It had completely escaped her that the movement put her breasts on display and that she was yet to be chained to the bed.  
When bent down to retrieve the plate of breakfast, he could not help, but break into a huge grin. Christine's hands remained in her lap as Erik fed his nightingale as he always did.

_One Week Later..._

A week had past for the couple and Christine had been adapting quite nicely to her new way of life. Her master had stopped chaining her directly to the bird's head, but instead used a meter and a half-length of rope that permitted her roam around in their bed and he had replaced the shackles with a fabric-like bracelet in order to prevent rope burn or bruising her delicate wrist. In fact sometimes he would forget to tie her up until later in the day and she would still remain in bed, like any loyal pet.

Despite being able to do more, Christine was still completely dependent on Erik for all her needs. Whenever he fed her it was still done with his hands, while hers remained obediently in her lap. Dressing her for the day had changed slightly, all she did was shift so that dressing could be less of a chore for him.

The only major difference since her first mention of Raoul was that the Phantom rarely touched her anymore. And to her dismay, it honestly bothered her. Another problem Christine was having, her memory deteriorating. She was only able to recall vague .For instance she knew that he master had done a terrible act and she felt as if she should fear him, the lingering terror of being punished had completely vanished. She felt as though she should be missing something, but three blurry figures that she could not make out were the closest she could get. Try as she might the young woman could not remember anything, from beyond her master's realm.

There were also the unexplainable urges that kept jumping between running from him and throwing herself at him, not once did she allow herself to indulge in such acts. Somehow she knew, escaping the Phantom was vital. Within her brain, that was slowly losing any form of comprehension, she could not find out why.  
Her mind had gotten so bad, she finally decided to ask her master for assistance, "Angel?"

"Yes, my dove?" Erik was in the mist of undressing himself.

"Who am I?"

"You are Christine Daae," he replied absent minded hung up his robe.

"No! I mean who - uh," Christine barely understood her own question and knew not how to word it, but the Angel sees the Angel knows.  
Crawling into bed with his beloved he answered cryptically, "That is entirely up to you." Erik stroked beneath her chin, liking her look of enjoyment.

"I don't understand."

Not willing to see the look of disappointment, he leaned in closer to reach her ear, "It is your choice. You can choose to remain a chained prisoner, who I will take great care of or you can forfeit yourself to me. Give me your willing body, your heart, your soul, and mind without any restraint." The Opera Ghost paused, allowing her to absorb this new information.

"If I choose the latter, what shall change... for me? Her question was valid. Everything would change, yet how could he explain that and prevent scaring her.

"You will be happy," Erik finally answered giving in to the temptation of nuzzling her neck. "You will be happy with me. You will have a full life of music and pleasure..." Christine shivered as she felt his hot breath and male hardness caress her.

A part of her, that vaguely remember the world above, begged her to make it stop. "I am not permitted to leave," it was a statement not a question.

"If you were, what would be the point?" Before she could answer his robe fell off its hanger and being a perfectionist, Erik got up to fix it. He rehung the article of clothing and turned to face a wide eyed Christine. Oddly enough she was not staring at him, her eyes were fixed on his feet. The Phantom followed her gaze, only to gasp in disbelief at the Vicomte's engagement ring to Christine.  
"Raoul," his name was whispered like a prayer from her lips.

* * *

Cliff hanger! Aren't I evil?


	7. The Nightmare

**Author's Note:** The song Erik is going to sing is called 'Counting Bodies like Sheep' by Perfect Circle, listen to it first, so that this chapter will more sense. Another thing, I have heard some fans say that Erik's Punjab is made out of cat gut... where in the world did that that come from?

* * *

**Chapter VII**

**The Nightmare**

"Raoul." His name was whispered like a prayer from her lips. At first Erik felt his heart drop and he wanted to cry, then he felt rage at the fact that the boy was winning, even after abandoning his Christine. He started seeing red, but suddenly he felt the Phantom return with a new, cruel idea.

Erik jumped to his feet and made a bee-line for the kitchen. Christine, on the other hand, was too lost in thought to notice him. How could she when the vague blurs now had faces and names? "Raoul." His image became clear to her once again. "Meg, Madame Giry." The two most important women in her life, she could remember them. Christine felt tears of joy slide down her pink cheeks, and smiled. For the first time, in what seemed like an eternity, she felt herself smile.

The young woman was surprised when her Angel came storming in, not looking happy at all. "Master wha-."

"Drink this now!" he growled, handing her a silver goblet with a purplish liquid inside it. Christine was so startled she didn't stop to ask questions or notice the horrible taste, until she had already swallowed it. She cringed when she felt the sting of the bitter vile.

"Angel, please tell me what's wr-,"

"It's time for bed, Christine." Rebellion against his decision was useless as she began to feel very drowsy, like she could not sit up anymore. Delicately, her head drifted to the pillows, and she unconsciously turned her back to him. Lucky for her, Erik was too busy trying to keep his inner tempest at bay to notice. So once again he crawled into bed with his beloved. He pulled her into a strong, possessive embrace, but she only whimpered from being moved from where she was comfortable. It took barely a minute for the drugged girl to fall into a light slumber, but the Phantom had to wait until she was in a deep sleep for him to execute the rest of his plan. For now he would have to ready himself by positioning his lips near her earlobe.

A part of him didn't want to do this, but they had long past the point of no return.

* * *

Christine opened her eyes and was confused. She was in a room that possessed only a small white bed and a window with white lacy curtains. Everything else of the room was white: the walls, the ceiling, even her. She was wearing a white nightgown that ended at her calves and a small budding white rose in her hair.

Christine pulled off the snowy covers and soundlessly walked to the window. She could make nothing, but three familiar figures. Try as the young woman might, yet for the life of her she could not draw back the curtains. Christine began tapping on the lace covered glass in an attempt to get their attention. "Please help me." Christine received no reply from the silhouettes.

Perhaps there is a secret door, she thought, and with this in mind placed her hands on the solid white wall next to the window and ran her hands all over to find any means for escape.

Left to right, top to bottom she searched the little white room for a way out, until she came back to the window. Christine begged and banged more frantically, "Please help me! I am scared! I want to get out of here! PLEASE!" The three figures ignored her. She knew they could see her, she could feel their eyes on her, yet they did not care.

As Christine crumbled to the ground in a heap of tears, she heard the most angelic voice echoed all-round the room, yet at the same time whispering into her ear.

_"Don't fret precious I'm here."_

Christine got to her feet and looked out the window to perhaps see if someone had finally answered her, but none of them had moved an inch.

_"Step away from the window."_

For some reason the young Daae was too afraid to move.

_"Go back to sleep."_

She glanced at the bed, still unwilling to move.

_"Safe from pain and truth_  
_and choice and other poison_  
_devils."_

As each item was named each silhouette turned away from her and walked away.

_"See, they don't give a fuck_  
_about you, like I do."_

The magnificent baritone was trying to convince her that she was alone and uncared for. And it was succeeding.

_"Count the bodies like sheep_  
_Count the bodies like sheep"_

Then that chanting started up.

_"Counting bodies like sheep_  
_To the rhythm of the war drums_

_Count the bodies like sheep"_

For a moment the chanting stopped, and then horrible cries of pain ricocheted from all around the room at a maddening volume.

_"Go back to sleep_  
_Go back to sleep_"

The voice returned, silencing the screamer.

_"Counting bodies like sheep  
To the rhythm of the war drums_

Go back to sleep  
Go back to sleep

Counting bodies like sheep  
To the rhythm of the war drums

Go back to sleep  
Go back to sleep

Counting bodies like sheep"

The whole time he sang, Christine covered her ears in a failed attempt to trying keep him out and paced around the room, purposely avoiding the bed, to locate the source of the exquisite sound.

"**_Go back to sleep!"_**

The sudden anger within the voice proved too much for the young girl. With a cry of fear, Christine finally submitted to the voice's command and threw herself onto the bed, pulling on the covers to cocoon herself. To protect herself from the voice, but to no avail...

Now it sounded as though it was with her under the bedding, harshly caressing her body...

_"Go to sleep_  
_Go to sleep_

_Go to sleep_  
_Go to sleep!"_

Then she could feel hot breath next to her ear, screaming.

_"Go back to sleep"_

Suddenly being unable to breath, Christine threw off the blankets and started to cry.

_"Go back to sleep_  
_Go back to sleep"_

But alas her cries were made inaudible by the consistent chanting of the glorious baritone.

_"Counting bodies like sheep_

_Go back to sleep_  
_Go back to sleep_

_Counting bodies like sheep_  
_To the rhythm of the war drums_

_Go back to sleep_  
_Go back to sleep_

_Counting bodies like sheep_  
_To the rhythm of the war drums_

_Go back to sleep_  
_Go back to sleep_

_Counting bodies like sheep_  
_To the rhythm of the war drums_  
_Counting bodies like sheep_  
_To the rhythm of the war drums"_

Finally Christine ran out tears and just laid herself down listening to the promises of the voice.

_"I'll be the one to protect_  
_you from your enemies and_  
_all your demons_  
_I'll be the one to protect_  
_you from a will to survive_  
_and a voice of reason_  
_I'll be the one to protect_  
_you from your enemies and_  
_your choices hon_  
_They're one in the same, I_  
_must isolate you…_  
_Isolate and save you from yourself"_

Back in reality Erik was rocking back and forth in futile attempt to sooth his sleeping beauty from her drug induced nightmare. She was crying hysterically and had curled herself into his hard chest and his embrace.

Tomorrow Erik would receive his final result. "One way or another Christine we will be together...even if it kills us."

* * *

I am so sorry this took so long, but my computure started fighting me & the the internet went down etc...etc...etc...

Review or no chapter shall be posted until I reach 20 reviews.


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